time. Her mouth fell open in wonderment
as he entered her. Something that had been
missing now filled her completely. She
protested when he started to withdraw and
cried out in ecstasy when he pressed
forward again. He maintained a leisurely
tempo, watching her for any signs of
distress until he lost himself to the
pleasure and need—rhythmically driving
into her deeper, faster, harder until she
was writhing beneath him in mindless
delirium.
“Nash,” she panted. “Nash. Oh!” Her
entire body convulsed as she found
glorious release.
He let go, following her in climax with
a shuddering moan. He found being human
and finding release inside of the woman
he loved was the most sexually and
spiritually gratifying experience of his
life.
He collapsed on top of her, knowing
he was crushing her, but was unable to
find the strength or the wits to move away.
He laid there, his heart rate returning to
normal, his mind completely free of his
worries, his heart full to bursting with his
feelings for the remarkable woman
beneath him.
“I love you, Maralee,” he told her,
kissing her shoulder and then her temple
with reverence.
“I love you.”
After his breathing had stilled, he
found he was incredibly sleepy. He
removed himself from her body and
collapsed next to her, rolling onto his
side. He smiled when she cuddled up
against his back and wrapped an arm
around him to rest on his chest. He was so
relaxed, so satisfied. He didn’t realize
how much he’d dropped his guard, until
her tremulous voice shattered the silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a
Wolf?”
CHAPTER 18
Nash never answered her question. He
effortlessly shifted to his human form and
rolled over to catch her in his arms. He
held onto her as if he were afraid she
would disappear.
“I guess all your strange behaviors can
be easily explained now,” she murmured.
His arms tightened around her. She lay
perfectly still for a long moment.
“I’d better leave,” she said finally.
“No,” he said, rubbing his face against
her temple. “You can’t.”
“I have to, Nash,” she said, trying to
wriggle out of his grasp. All she could
think was she had willing given herself to
an animal, a repulsive monster. “Let go of
me.”
“I can’t,” he whispered. “Please.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I never
would have allowed…I never…”
“I’m
sorry,”
he
whispered.
“I
thought…I thought…” He shuddered and
pressed his forehead to her shoulder. “I
can be a man, only a man, for you
Maralee. I won’t slip again.”
“But you’re not a man. You’re an
animal,” she sputtered, pushing against his
chest and wrenching herself out of his
grasp. “Worse than an animal. A savage
Wolf. I can’t believe…” Her heart was
pounding, her stomach writhing as if she
were going to be sick. “I can’t believe I
let a Wolf…a Wolf…do that!”
“You said you…love…me.”
If she had not been so distressed, she
might have felt remorse for causing any
living being such deep, scarring anguish.
“I didn’t know what you were!” She
moved towards the door. She had to
leave. Had to forget what had happened in
this room, in the house, with this man—
this lying, murdering beast. “It’s not
possible for me to love a monster,” she
whispered distractedly to herself.
He let her leave the room. She found
the bits of her scattered clothing around
the house and dressed as fast as she could.
She was gathering her things into her
knapsack when he emerged from his room,
gloriously naked and resigned to his
punishment for hiding his true form from
her for so long.
“I’ll go get your sword,” he told her,
walking past her, not meeting her eyes. He
could have convinced her to stay with his
hypnotic gaze, but he didn’t want her that
way. There was no hope for her after all.
She would always see his people as
monsters to be exterminated, and he
wasn’t sure what had possessed him to
ever believe otherwise.
She understood the significance of
regaining possession of her sword. He
was
declaring
them
enemies.
She
hesitated, almost told him to forget the
sword, that she wouldn’t need it, but
remembered the moon would be full soon
and she did have a legacy to uphold;
people to protect. People she didn’t love,
but was honor bound to defend. The
Wolves of Nash’s village would prey
upon the humans of Sarbough, and Nash,
whatever he was, would protect those
beasts over humans. She was convinced of
this.
At least she understood why he had an
attachment to animals; he was half-animal
himself. She wondered if his own people,
the Forest People, realized what he was.
Did they know a half-Wolf/half-human
anomaly lived amongst them? Surely, they
must. How could they accept such a freak
of nature? Perhaps they only let him stay
here to offer them protection. They
couldn’t possibly trust the Wolves who
lived near their settlement. Being half-
Wolf, he must control the full Wolves
somehow and keep them from harming the
Forest People.
Maralee slung her knapsack over her
shoulder and left the house, not glancing
back at the place where she’d found such
love, such bliss, in the arms of the enemy.
Nash was just coming out of his
mother’s house, Maralee’s sword in one
hand. He stalked over to her and thrust it
in her direction. He didn’t look at her
when she took it from him. Why was the
thought of leaving tearing her apart inside?
He had betrayed her trust, led her to
believe he was something he was not, and
made her fall hopelessly in love with him.
She should be glad to be able to put this
entire ordeal behind her, to get on with her
life—her lonely, miserable, wretched
existence, without Nash.
She cuddled her father’s sword to her
chest, drawing strength from it as she had
when she had first become the Wolf
Huntress. It would never betray her. It had
been the only constant in her l
ife for
fifteen years. She garnered enough strength
to turn and walk away.
After she left the village behind, a
Wolf’s loud, mournful howl pierced the
silence of the forest.
CHAPTER 19
“You’re better off without her, Nash,”
Rella told him, patting his hand.
This was obviously a false statement
meant to cheer him up. It wasn’t working.
Nash had never once been miserable with
Maralee by his side, and he had a gaping
chasm in his chest now she was gone.
Better off without her? Sure, if misery was
pleasure.
“I keep trying to convince myself of
that,” he murmured.
Maralee had been gone for three days
already. It felt like three decades.
“Why don’t you stay here tonight?”
Rella said, her hand curling around his on
her dining room table. “Or permanently.”
He glanced up at her, wondering if she
was offering what he thought she was. She
stared into his eyes unflinchingly for
several long moments.
“I need a father for my children,” she
said. “You are obviously my best choice.”
“Father?”
“They adore you, Nash. All three of
them. You already know you can’t have
children of your own.”
He stared down at her hand, which
was clutching his with hope. It would be a
very practical thing to do. He was no
longer entertaining thoughts of years spent
in Maralee’s captivating company. Still,
he would always think of Rella as Cort’s
devoted mate. He would never betray his
brother, even if Cort had been reduced to
a grave and memories.
“I’ll help you in any way I can, Rella,”
Nash said. “But—”
“You don’t have to have a relationship
with me,” Rella interrupted. “I don’t
require anything for myself. I simply want
someone here for my children.”
“I always have been. Why would that
change?”
She gave him a fleeting smile. “Think
on it, Nash. Okay?”
“Yeah,” he promised. “I should go…
home.” The idea of returning to his empty
house and his empty bed weighed heavily
upon his heart.
“You know you’re welcome to stay
here.”
“I…” He hesitated. Every nook and
cranny of his dwelling held one or another
reminder of Maralee. It was especially
desolate at night. His lonely pallet of furs
swallowed him; made him small and
hollow.
“Was she really that wonderful?”
Rella asked.
His far off gaze returned to hers.
“Yeah. To me, she was…everything.”
“You scarcely knew her two weeks,”
she said, seeming exasperated by his utter
dedication to a human woman—a woman
who declared him a monster and left him
without a backwards glance. “She
obviously didn’t feel the same for you.”
“Obviously.” He stood up from the
table and Rella watched him, concern
etched around her eyes. “How’s your
supply of meat?”
“Low.” Rella’s quarry had been
abandoned when the wolves attacked her
and her sons.
“I’ll go for a hunt then.” It seemed a
much better use of his time then staring off
into space for hours on end. “Maybe
Carsha—”
Rella smiled warmly. “Yes, take
Carsha with you. I’m sure she’d love to
go.”
“What about the twins?”
“They are still recovering from their
wounds.”
“Just me and Carsha then,” he said, his
heart warming at the thought of how
pleased his niece would be.
“I’ll go get her ready.”
When Rella returned with an exuberant
Carsha in tow, they found Nash staring
unseeingly out the window over the
kitchen sink.
“Uncle Nash, are we really going on a
hunt?” Carsha squealed, hugging him
around both legs excitedly.
He started, drawn from his depressed
musings and looked down at her. He
smiled. “We are.”
“Will she need any clothes?” Rella
asked.
“Nope. Just fur and fangs,” he said,
tousling Carsha’s hair.
“I’ve got both of those.” Still fully
clothed, Carsha transformed into her Wolf
form.
Rella laughed. “Silly, girl,” she said,
tugging on her daughter’s dress. “It’s
easier to remove your clothes before you
change.”
Carsha wriggled out of her dress,
tumbled her mother to the floor with both
paws and licked her face enthusiastically.
Nash laughed, the lump of lead in his heart
lighten marginally.
“I haven’t seen her this excited since
you and Cort took her last time,” Rella
said, as she hugged the wriggling pup.
“It will be pretty calm without Cort.”
Carsha spun around and around in the
center of the floor, leaping exuberantly
whenever she caught sight of Nash in her
dizzy dance.
“I guess you’re ready to go.”
Carsha barked in the affirmative, tail
wagging.
“Do you mind looking after my house
while we’re gone?” he asked Rella.
“Of course not. How long will you
be?”
“Two days should do it,” he said,
Carsha whined a protest.
“Or three.”
She barked and began her dizzy dance
around the kitchen again. Her mother was
sitting on the floor, watching Carsha race
round and round her. “Settle down,” Rella
admonished, although she was smiling at
her daughter’s antics. Carsha had lost her
cheerful spunk when she’d seen her
brothers’ injuries. She had been afraid
Nash would bury them.
Naked now, Nash handed his stack of
neatly folded clothes to Rella. She looked
at him and smiled. “I’ll clean these for you
while you’re gone.”
Nash took his Wolf form and licked
Rella’s cheek before trotting towards the
door. Carsha followed him, weaving
between his long legs until he pulled the
door open with his teeth. Carsha burst out
of the house as a dark gray flash. Nash
raced after her, wild and free, as they
dashed between the trees. He knew
Maralee would never understand the joy
of being a Wolf. She would therefore
never realize the significance behind his
promise to become only a man for her. It
no longer mattered anyway. She was gone
and perhaps now he would remain forever
a Wolf for himself. Being a man hurt too
much.
CHAPTER 20
Maralee’s most pressing issue was her
current lack of funds, or so she told
herself. The fact she never slept was a
temporary nuisance. Forgetting to eat and
staring into nothingness for hours was due
to her insomnia. It couldn’t possibly have
anything to do with Nash being out of her
life.
After five days of drifting in
loneliness, Maralee decided to pen a
letter to her aunt and have her send some
of her inheritance. She could collect
bounties after the next full moon, but that
didn’t help her current situation. Now that
Maralee was twenty-one, she was in
charge of her own estate. She had yet to
remove her aunt from her home in
Dubwar. Although the two of them had
never agreed on anything, her aunt had
always ensured Maralee did not starve
and had clothes on her back, so she didn’t
mind Aunt Bailey living there while she
moved from town to town in search of
Wolves.
Aunt Bailey had been her deceased
uncle’s wife—an aunt by marriage, not
blood. She had agreed to handle
Maralee’s monetary affairs until she
became old enough to gain legal
possession of her funds. Although her
twenty-first birthday had come and gone,
Maralee had yet to claim what was
rightfully hers. She was glad it was at her
disposal however, now that she was in
such dire need of money.
In her letter, Maralee requested a tidy
sum, enough money to get her through
several months of expenses. She could
imagine her aunt’s reaction, but knew she
would comply since she had no legal right
to
live
in
the
Decatur’s
manor,
squandering Maralee’s the fortune, and
bossing servants around all day. Maralee
folded the letter, and was about to seal it
in
an
envelope,
when
something
compelled her to put in a second request.
She unfolded the letter, drew ink into her
fountain pen and added a postscript. She
described a book written by an ancient
sage about shape-shifting Wolves and
requested it be sent along with the money.
She didn’t know why she wanted the
book. She attributed her impulsive
behavior to her current state of exhaustion.
Maralee sealed the letter, put on her
boots and cloak and left the room she
rented at the inn. The innkeeper, Gordon,